Annabelle
by Screams of a Shadow
Summary: What if Brennan and House knew each other from before the shows? What if they had a secret, one not even Wilson or Angela knew? This is the story of Annabelle. Slightly OOC. AU. No determined ships as of yet.
1. Prologue

She was a barely-out-of-school forensic anthropologist, he a talented diagnostician. She was getting ready to go to Africa for a year, he just got an amazing offer from some hospital in New Jersey. She was emotionally unavailable, he a snarky jackass who hid his feelings with sarcasm.

No way could they raise a child. It was these reasons that they had made this decision... there was no other way.

The mother felt a tug on her hand- the one that was in her boyfriend's grasp. Giving their newborn daught one last look, she followed him out of the hospital and out of her offspring's life. Annabelle would be happy with the Micheals'; much happier than with her. She just wasn't mother material, just like he wasn't father material... but she'd be damned if they hadn't made one beautiful baby together. 


	2. Chapter 1

Greg had had a long-ass day.

They got a patient in yesterday with weird but stable symptoms; weird because the labs were showing absolutely nothing worng with the guy, stable because, while they weren't going away, they weren't getting worse either. As he was stable, the doctors had felt comfortable leaving him overnight in nurses' care. Around 3 am, the patient flat-lined for no apparent reason.

So, naturally, Greg had had to go in, because this just became a life-hanging-in-the-balance type of case. Thus, he had been run off his feet for 16 hours before someone - he couldn't even remember who - had taken a VERY close look at some of the lab results... and seen that they weren't the patients. After acquiring the proper labs, the 'disease' had turned out to actually be a very obvious blood infection that would have been easily treated had it been found 3 weeks ago when the patient had come into the clinic initially.

And now, nearing midnight, Greg was getting home. He hoped Stacy wouldn't be too bitchy about it today.  
He was tired. But not too tired to perform his nightly ritual of looking through the mail for anything important. And by 'anything important', he meant letters from the Micheals' or Tempe. Ah! A letter from the Micheals'. That means new pictures.

The Micheals - Jim and Joy - are the couple that had custody of his daughter. His beautiful baby girl... his dirty little secret... She was nearly 4 and already reading (reportedly, quite often) and writing, as well as beginning with math. Advanced, yes, but what did you expect from the offspring of 2 semi-renowned doctors who were both certified geniuses? Stupidity?

Reading the accompanying letter, Greg found out that Annabelle had been granted early acceptance to a school for gifted children. The Micheals' would be moving to Maryland, on the outskirts of DC. Greg was thrilled, to be just a few hours drive away? That was certainly much more acceptable to him than the current and far-away Cincinnatti. Aditionally, she'd be much closer to Tempe, who, about a year ago, bought an apartment in DC, though she wasn't there much as her work still had her traveling the world. If he remembered correctly, she should be getting home from El Salvador any day now.

After reading about Annabelle's most recent accomplishments, Greg turned to the pictures still in the envelope.  
The first was of Anna in an oversized apron that said 'it's not baking unless you've made a mess' and covered in flour. She was grinning like mad, with her blue eyes approximately the color of the Wyoming sky on a clear day- an apparent compromise between his nearly-neon blue and Tempe's dark sapphire-blue. Anna's sandy-brown hair was showing bits of red that evidenced a lot of time in the sun - that red HAD to come from Tempe's side, he hadn't had a redhead in his family for several generations. There was a plate of chocolate-chip cookies on the counter next to her.

Picture number two showed Anna sitting at the kitchen table with several papers in front of her- Greg amusingly noted that they were all stacked very neatly, probably a pile for 'to-do' on her left, with the paper she was currently focusing on in front of her, and a stack of 'done' on her right. Joy had mentioned several times that Anna was obsessively neat, bordering on OCD. There was a pencil in her hand, and a slight frown on her face as she concentrated on what appeared to be a difficult math problem. Well, difficult for a 4-year-old anyway.  
Basic division for anyone over the age of 11.

Photo three depicted Anna in a black leotard and pink tights in front off a barre and mirrors standing on one foot, bent over with the other foot curved back and up, both arms spread to the sides. It would've been a classic 'little ballerina' shot if not for the fact that her leotard was covered in patches advertising various bands - Rolling Stones, Aerosmith, Metallica, Death Cab for Cutie, Green Day, and The Beatles, to name a few - and her tights, instead of the usual baby-pink, were hot-pink with an equally hot-purple leopard-print.  
Greg had to smile at that- looks like she got his 'rock-n-roll' fashion sense, though his wasn't quite so 80's.... anymore. She was dressed similarly in most of the other photos as well, but it was more obvious in this one.

In the fourth and final photo, Anna sat cross-legged on what appeared to be her bed - the blankets and pillows were a mixture of black and purple, and there were band posters, watercolors, and photos hanging on the wall behind her. She was in faded blue jeans and a Stones T-shirt. But it wasn't her surroundings or fashion sense that interested Greg. No, while he would usually delight in those little insights to her personality, his interest here lay in the guitar that she was attempting to play. It was an acoustic Gibson, nothing special, but he was thrilled that she was learning to play. It was a bit big for her yet, her fingers were definitely reaching to get up to the low E, but she was managing, with a pick in the other hand, and a small smile on her face around the lip that she was biting in concentration. Hmm... maybe he would be adding something to her birthday present.

He'd stop by the music store tomorrow on his way home from work (assuming he wasn't working till ungodly hours of the night again). He had, admittedly, had quite a bit to do with the 'obsession' with music that Jim and Joy had often written him about. When the Micheals' had adopted Annabelle, they and Greg and Tempe had agreed to an open adoption- meaning that Anna had always known that she was adopted. Or, at the very least, known that she had two sets of parents, since adoption is a bit of a difficult concept to grasp at 4-years-old.  
From the first, Greg had sent cards and presents for every holiday and birthday, and had flown to Cincinnatti every year for either Thanksgiving or Christmas. He knew that Tempe did much the same, as on a few occasions she had dropped gifts off with him before a long trip, knowing she wouldn't be able to send them herself, so that he could send them at the same time he sent his.

For this particular birthday, Greg had gotten Anna a few new records- he'd bought her a phonograph last Christmas- along with some cd's and tickets to a few sporting events- even at her young age, she had her favorite teams, and Greg and Jim both tried to take her to see them when they were in Cincinnatti. One game in particular Greg wanted be the one to take her to is the Steelers/Bengals game 2 months out- they both favored the Steelers. Anna was already to spout off Steelers stats like they were the alphbet. If he didn't hate the word so much, Greg would call it cute how Anna would yell at the refs like any full-grown blue-blooded male NFL fan. Afterwords he always made sure to remind her that she couldn't use some of those words anywhere that wasn't a pro-sports arena, or her mothers would kill both he and Jim for allowing her to use them at all.

But with this new information that she was learning to PLAY the guitar, instead of just critisizing others for not having any skills, well, he couldn't be letting his ONLY daughter use anything but the best, could he? What kind of a musician would he be if he did that? Maybe one of those Tacomas that they got in last week... The state of Washington wasn't good for much- until recently the list included only Microsoft, Starbucks, and Boeing- but they damn sure knew how to make guitars out there.

"Greg? Are you coming to bed?" a voice asked from the doorway.

Looking that direction, Greg saw his girlfriend, Stacy, standing there in nothing but one of his button-ups.  
"Yeah, just let me put these away," he replied, holding up the photos. He absently wondered how long Stacy would last with him. She had moved in after only a week of dating him, but he got the feeling she wouldn't take well to finding out that he had a child with another woman, but refused to even contemplate marriage or children with her. Thus, he had told her that Jim Micheals was a friend from college, and that Anna was his Goddaughter. He didn't like hiding it from her, but he also didn't really want her to know about that aspect of his life.  
It felt like something that he shouldn't share with anyone but Tempe.

Moving from the kitchen counter, Greg grabbed a few tacks out of the small bowl of them and stuck the new photos on the corkboard covered almost exclusively in pictures of Annabelle that was hanging above his small kitchen table. The corkboard was getting a bit full; sometime soon he would need to take some off of there and transfer them into the photo album that - also - was almost exclusively Anna.

Done with his task, he walked over to Stacy and, grabbing her waist lightly, kissed her, walking her backwards down the hall toward to bedroom. Normally after this long of a day, he wanted nothing more than to flop into bed and pass out, but he knew if he tried that, Stacy would start questioning him about Annabelle and, undoubtedly,  
that would lead to her questioning him about if (translation, WHEN) he wanted children of his own, which, in women-  
speak, is actually, "When are you going to settle down, propose to me, and ask me to pop out a few kids?"

Problem being, the answer is "Never", and women don't tend to like hearing that; and since he did want to continue to get laid regularly, his only hope at this point was to distract her before she could start talking.

Damn women anyway.


	3. Chapter 2

Temperance Brennan HATED hospitals.

OK, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. More appropriate would be 'Temperance Brennan hated most things which caused one to be admitted to a hospital' or 'Temperance Brennan hated the constant noise, so-clean-it's-rancid smells, and really bad food that are unfailingly associated with hospitals'.

That second one is why she very carefully hid the fact that she DID actually have an M.D.... and very much preferred to not use it unless ABSOLUTELY necessary. That, and she didn't want to have to deal with patients. Huh... no wonder she and Greg had hit it off so well all those years ago.

Signing the release forms (she had never been so glad to know so many languages, for these release forms were in Spanish), Temperance quickly left the hospital and hopped into the taxi that was already waiting outside to take her to the airport.

She was happy to be getting back home from her 8-week stint in El Salvador. Two weeks in to her stay, she had been working late into the evening trying to identify victims of genocide, when the same people that committed these horrible acts upon others had taken her hostage and proceeded to torture her for 10 days. When she was rescued, she had gone straight to the hospital, where they had treated her for a myriad of ailments. The most serious injury had been a broken leg, but it had (blessingly) been a simple hairline fracture that had her out of a hard cast and the hospital and into a taxi in time to make her originally scheduled flight home.

She was especially happy that she would still be home in time for Annabelle's birthday.

Brought into this world at 5 pounds, 8 ounces, 17 inches long on January the 9th, 1996, Annabelle Cathrine Micheals was Temperance Brennan's tiny pride and joy.... as well as her dirty little secret. Not even Angela, her best friend since freshman year of college, knew about Anna; and for that matter, Ange was going to kill her when she found out. But... no. Only Greg and the Micheals' knew about Anna.

Temperance had been hesitant when Jim and Joy had suggested an open adoption, in which they were Anna's legal gaurdians, but Temperance and Greg were"Godparents" of sorts, so that they could take custody of Anna should anything ever happen to the Micheals'. At the time, she had thought that being in contact would simply prolong the pain of not raising her own child, but it took only 3 holidays for Tempe to realize that this way she was still getting a hand in raising Anna, while not giving up the career that she had just barely achieved scant months before Anna's birth.

This would be Anna's 4th birthday, and Temperance was spending it in Cincinnatti this year, since she had been away for Christmas.

Boarding her plane, Temperance smiled thinking about all the gifts she'd gotten Anna this year. After some discussion with Jim and Joy, Tempe had gotten Anna a childs chemistry set.

Anna was quite the little intellectual. Already reading, writing and doing math, Anna was facsinated with rocks and insects and animals, and when their weekly phone coversations came around, Tempe delighted in answering her daughter's questions about science and how things work. Anna even amazed Tempe once by asking a scientific question that Tempe DIDN'T know the answer to... Though in her defense, music was Greg's area of expertise, not Tempe's. So, when Anna had asked about the construct of an acoustic guitar, all Tempe could do was tell her that she'd have to ask her father.

To go along with the set was a few elementary-school-age-geared books on chemistry, biology, and general science; as well as several fiction books, a new pair of tights for ballet (Tempe didn't know where Anna got her fashion sense, but when she'd seen the neon-pink tights with geometric shapes in various other neon colors, Tempe knew Anna would love them), as well as some other clothes that would all make Anna appear to have been born a decade or two late, and some beautiful silver ("Mom, gold is SO not my color") jewelry she had found in El Salvador.

As the plane took off from the tarmac, Tempe's thoughts turned to Greg, as they inevitably did when thinking about Anna.

They had met at John Hopkins. She had gone there to get her M.D., having not yet realized her laothing of patient/doctor interation; Greg was in his last year for his pHd in Nephrology. They didn't have any classes together, had no mutual friends, didn't ever see each other in the Caf or student-run coffee shop... it was really a fluke, how they met.

Flashback

It had been sunny this morning when Tempe had left the small apartment a few blocks off campus. Now, however, at 11 o'clock at night, it was a downpour. She managed to get from the library (her favored study-spot) to a pub just outside campus without getting more than a little damp by hugging the buildings and taking advantage of the short overhangs. But she couldn't go any further without getting soaked.  
She had several streets to cross and very little overhead protection between here and her apartment. Not really looking forward to her expensive schoolbooks getting ruined, Tempe decided to try and wait out the rain. Sitting down on a bench outside the pub, Tempe pulled out one of said books and began revising for a test that was still fairly far off... but it's not like she had anything else to do....

Not two minutes after she had begun reading, the door to the pub opened, and someone came outside. Tempe paid no attention.

"Not generally a place known for studying," came a male voice off to her left. There was a moment of silence, then, "Do you generally ignore people that are speaking to you, or are you deaf?"

"My hearing is fine. I was unaware that a simple statement of fact required a response." Tempe had yet to look at the man speaking to her.

"OK. How bout this? Why are you sitting on a bench outside a pub reading a textbook when you could be inside, warm, drinking beer and dancing?"

She was unsure, but it sounded like this guy was slightly amused. About what, she hadn't the faintest clue.

"I don't generally enjoy mass social activity. The only reason I am remaining anywhere in the vicinity of a building meant expressly for such things is because it's pouring out and I can't go any further toward home without causing extensive water damage to several very expensive textbooks," replied Temperance, still not looking at the man.

There was another moment of silence in which the man appeared to be taking in the information (Tempe would find out later that he was mentally tallying the number of words in one sentence that were more than 3 syllables long).

"You want a ride home?" The man asked.

At this, Tempe finally looked up. She was momentarily stunned by the man before her. He was a very fine male specimen. Muscled, without being obnoxiously so, tall, and the had blue eyes so bright they almost appeared to glow.... or maybe that was just the reflection of the neon signs in the window.

Quickly getting over her speachlessness, Tempe quirked an eyebrow and asked, "Why?"

"Why would you want a ride home or why would I offer you one?" the man asked in a tone that suggested she was an idiot for asking.

Rolling her eyes, she stated "I KNOW why I would want a ride. Why would you offer me one?"

"Would you like the gentlemanly answer, or the truth?"

"The truth. I find men that are gentlemanly are either hiding something or are rather dull, and not that great in bed."

The man smirked, and chuckled, saying, "I should introduce you to Wilson. He's the poster-boy for 'gentlemanly'. The reason I offered you a ride home, honestly, is because you're hot, and I was really hoping to get an invite up for quote/unquote 'coffee', which is generally used as a euphamism for "Greg, will you please come up to my apartment and fuck me blind?" " the man (apparently named Greg) said, the last part in a falsetto, imitating a woman's voice.

"It's impossible to be blinded by way of sexual relations," Tempe said with a slight frown.

Looking incredulous, Greg asked "I tell you that I am offering you a ride home in the hopes of getting laid, and THAT'S what you focus on?"

As if it were the most obvious thing in the world, Tempe responded, "Well, it's hardly uncommon for a male to do something nice for a female in the hopes of being rewarded with sexual favors. In fact, in many societies, it is expected that the male do several nice things to woo the famale before any type of sexual contact is brought into the relationship." Greg seemed as if he didn't know how to repond to this. She paused for a moment. "Yes, I would very much appreciate a ride home. And if you wish to engage in sexual intercourse, I would not be adverse to the idea."

Tempe snapped her book shut, looking down to place it back in her backpack before zipping up the backpack and swinging it onto her back as she stood from the bench. Looking at Greg, she saw that he was examining her as if she were some extremely complex math equation that he was missing a variable to solve, but was trying his damnedest anyway. Breaking his reverie, she asked "So are you ready?"

Raising both eyebrows slightly, amazed that she seemed completely unaware of the double-entendre and a bit stunned that she had just agreed to have sex with him for giving her a ride home when they'd known each other less than 5 minutes, Greg said "Yeah, let's go,' turning to his car, which was parked right behind where he was standing. Turning, he walked to the passenger door in two long strides, unlocked it, and proceeded to crawl over the center console to rest in the driver's seat and putting the key in the ingnition, leaving the door open for Tempe to get in. As she was shutting the door, he started the engine and asked "Where am I going?"

Giving him the cross streets that her apartment complex was on, she took her backpack from her back and set it in her lap, leaning comfortably back into the seat. A few minutes later, Greg was parking on the street in front of Tempe's building.

Leaving the car idling, Greg turned to her and said, "So do I at least get a kiss goodnight for my trouble?"

Raising a brow and smiling slightly, Tempe stated, "Earlier you were alluding to much more than a kiss goodnight."

"You were serious about that?"

"I have no reason to lie about my desires. You are an attractive man, and if you would like to come up to my apartment and have sex, I wouldn't mind in the least."

Not one that needed to be told such things twice (ok, apparently that number needed to be upped to three times), Greg quickly turned off the car and said "Let's go then" barely stopping to lock the doors once they were both out of the car. Her leading the way into the building, he was behind her walking up the stairs. While checking out her ass, he asked, "So, what's your name? I haven't managed to get that yet."

Turning her head as she walked, she saw his eyes firmly on her backside. Smirking, she said "Temperance." as she stopped on the third landing, and unlocked one of the two doors there. Motioning him inside after her, she shut the door behind him and tossed her backpack onto the worn couch.

As soon as the door was shut and her hands free, he gently (ok, KIND OF gently) pushed her back against the door and, lowering his face towards hers, said, "Temperance, huh? That's kind of ironic." before kissing her.

END Flashback

Tempe smiled remembering that first night. They'd had sex four times and both ended up being late for class the next day. And it was far from the only time they were late for something or other because of one or the other of them deciding they had time for 'just once more'.

The plane hit a bit of turbulance, shaking Temperance out of her memories. Mind still on Greg, she wonderded how he was doing. They spoke fairly often, but it was usually things about Annabelle. The last time they'd really just talked, he'd had a new girlfriend... ok, so Stacy had been around for over a year, but that's not the point.... and he had been promoted to Assistant Director of Diagnostics. She resolved to sit down and catch up with him while they were both in Cincinnatti for Anna's birthday, Tempe felt dreadfully out of touch with him considering they'd been good friends besides dating for 6 years, and they had a child together.

She couldn't WAIT to get home....


	4. Chapter 3

"Annabelle..."

"No."

"Anna, I NEED my Vicodin!"

"No, you don't. In two hours, you took a full days recommended dose. If you are going to abuse the privelege, it will be taken away- that's a house rule. I will give you the proper dosage at the appropriate times for the duration of your stay, and not one tablet more." With this declaration, the nearly 7-year-old turned on her heel and left her bedroom, where she had just found her father searching for his missing narcotics.

"But ANNA..." Greg whined.

His only response was a chuckle from just outside the door, where Jim Micheals had been observing the scene. "Never thought you'd have that one turned around on you, did you?"

"Yeah yeah, yuck it up, you aren't the one missing half his thigh muscle," was Greg's (admittedly) unoriginal response. He had just had the infarction less than 6 months earlier, and up to this point everyone had simply trusted him, as a doctor, to know his limit with the painkillers. Apparently, his duaghter knows him a bit better than the rest of the world. Pulling himself up from floor to bed, he looked at Jim and continued, "So, do you know where she put them?"

Jim smirked in response and siad, "Greg, she's the daughter of Greg House and Temperance Brennan, if she wants something to disappear, it disappears. Hell, somewhere around here she's hidden a half-dozen boxes of Twinkies because she decided I was eating too many sweets."

Grabbing his loathed cane and getting to his feet, Greg said, "Any other time I would be proud of her. In fact, I still am proud of her for it, the annoyance is just overriding the pride at this particular time."

The two men slowly made their way down the stairs, reaching the bottom just in time to hear a knock on the door. Stepping around Greg, Jim opened the door and with a warm grim exclaimed, "Tempe! We weren't expecting you for a few more hours! Come in, come in."

"I was able to get my work completed much earlier than I had anticipated. My new assistant is extremely gifted, my work goes quite a bit faster now." Tempe said, pausing to give Jim a warm hug, before moving on to give Greg the same greeting. "How are you doing since the infarction? Last time we spoke, you mentioned that you and Stacy were no longer together."

"Yeah, we broke up," Greg replied, then, turning his head toward the kitchen and raising his voice, he continued, " And I would be fine if I could take my pain meds!"

"You will get another dose in four hours and twenty six minutes, and not a second sooner!" came the reply shout of their daughter from the kitchen.

Jim grabbed Tempe's bag with a small smile and said, "According to Anna, Greg is abusing his pain medication, so she has taken it away. I'll put this up in your room." As he went upstairs to put the bag into what had become 'Tempe and Greg's room', the forementioned people turned and started making their way into the kitchen to see what their daughter was up to.

Entering the kitchen, they heard "Hi Momma. Sorry I'm not giving you a hug right away, but I am in need of a bit of cleaning up before that may occur." from the kitchen island, where they saw Anna elbows-deep in some as-yet-unidentifiable mixture that they were both sure would taste wonderful, as Anna seemed to have a knack for making the weirdest combinations taste good.

"I'm sure you will make it up to me later," Tempe said, giving her daughter a quick kiss on the forehead, then moving to hug Joy, who was at the sink washing a few dishes.

Leaning against the island, Greg watched everyone start getting caught up and couldn't help the small smile on his face as he thought, "Another amazing start to christmas with the House/Brennan/Micheals family..."


End file.
